


Storm at Sea Part 3

by jelazakazone



Series: Storm at Sea [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 2012, F/M, M/M, Original Character Death(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-15
Updated: 2012-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-29 15:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jelazakazone/pseuds/jelazakazone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwaine remembers losing Imzelda and Merlin comforts him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storm at Sea Part 3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the ever awesome kleinefee92 for beta help and also to her and the fabulous dorkathus for encouragement and helping me think through parts of this story. This is the third and last part of the Storm at Sea series.

Gwaine woke with a start, gulping for air, disoriented. Sitting up didn’t help; he felt sweaty and his heart beat a tattoo against his ribs. The dark held no clues to his distress. All was quiet. Except the snoring of the slim man next to him in bed.

His anchor.

Merlin’s quiet snores were a balm to Gwaine’s panic. Gwaine placed an icy hand on his lover’s firm rump and the sorcerer flinched, but did not waken. The sudden movement soothed the warrior and his own breathing slowed to match Merlin’s. He sat back against the rough wall and closed his eyes, reliving the terror of the nightmare that was more than just a memory.

The ship had been in the doldrums for days, just sitting on eerily becalmed water. The normal creaking and groans of the ship had quieted. Heat infused their world, seeped into their skin, parched their mouths. Imzelda had coaxed him into their cabin, arguing that putting two bodies together would at least provide some distraction and wouldn’t actually be any hotter. She lay next to him, relaxed, but Gwaine felt itchy with restlessness. He had always been a man of action and this involuntary idleness was the closest thing to torture he could imagine. He picked at a piece of straw poking through the canvas cover, feeling driven to move, but unable to summon enough energy to do more.

Gwaine felt air stirring across his naked flesh. He welcomed the relief and closed his eyes, concentrating on air cooling his damp skin. The ship started to creak as the water surrounding them moved again. The lovers could hear cheering abovedecks and they grinned at each other, knowing morale had been restored to the crew. Energized, Gwaine grabbed his breeches and thrust his legs into them. Imzelda languidly arose and he helped her wind her sarong around her body. Gwaine realized that the noises were growing louder and the wind had picked up. Imzelda strode purposely up the galley; Gwaine followed, anxiety suddenly gnawing at his gut.

The wind had picked up and the sailors were letting the sheets out, taking advantage of the moving air. Gwaine looked out, beyond the ship, over the water and felt the bottom of his stomach drop. At first, his eyes could not make sense of what they saw. Was it a waterspout, erupting out of the water? No, it was a big rock, jutting up. No, that still wasn’t right. His mind scrambled frantically, trying to force his frazzled mind to tumble the facts into sense. As they neared the object, he was able to make out a sinuous neck covered with slimy green scales and topped by a reptilian face. Luminous golden eyes stared down at him, paralyzing him. A giant sea serpent was looming. He heard a loud scream that would not stop and only realized it was coming from him when putting his hands to his ears failed to stop the noise.

He started at a light touch on his upper arm and whirled around, ready to do battle. His blew out a breath he’d been holding when he realized it was Imzelda. Still taut, he didn’t realize initially that she was not worried, and in fact, neither was any one else. He was the only one. Confused, he gave his sorceress a look and she said, “I called the beast”. Gwaine’s mouth started to move, but nothing came out. Scattered thoughts prevented him from voicing words. She continued, “It is a solution of last resort. I can call a sea serpent at any time, but there will be a price. We have reached our limit, in regards to both supplies and energy; it is time to move on and neither the weather nor the sea are changing. Come. He will tow us to stronger winds.”

Gwaine had thought himself intrepid, but this was not an adventure he’d have chosen. Imzelda’s courage compelled him forward, to the tip of the bow. The wind ruffled his long wavy hair, blowing it away from his face. Gwaine closed his eyes to stop the tears the wind was provoking. He heard a keening noise and realized that Imzelda was not singing in her native tongue nor any language he’d heard before. When he opened his eyes, he saw that indeed, the aquatic beast was towing the craft, moving in time to his mistress’s song. He turned and put his back on the rail so he could watch Imzelda guide the serpent. Gwaine took in a deep breath of warm salty air, held it for a moment, and then released it. He realized that his shoulders were hurting, he had been so anxious, and he rolled them a bit, trying to relieve some of the ache.

The wind had picked up and great gusts were battering them. Gwaine reached out a hand to grasp the rail for security and another to grasp Imzelda. One hand met solid wood; the other, air. In an instant, Gwaine felt blind. He groped for her in vain. He grabbed the amulet and searched for his connection with her. It was gone. Now he understood what Imzelda had meant about there being a price to use the sea serpent.

Each time he remembered losing Imzelda, the pain ripped into him as if it were the first time. Tears dripped down Gwaine’s face, sobs shook his body. The motion woke Merlin who thrashed lanky arms and tangled the sheets while murmuring “Gwaine, Gwaine?” Merlin reached up and put his hand on the heartsick man’s arm. Finally awake, he realized that Gwaine was holding Imzelda’s amulet as the tears ran freely down his face. Merlin rubbed Gwaine’s arm with the back of his fingers and then sat up. Gwaine’s distress threw Merlin into action. “Come,” the sorcercer said. He stood and pulled at Gwaine who, didn’t have the energy to resist. They pulled breeches and shirts on, stepped into boots, grabbed jackets, and walked into the crisp night air.

Gwaine sucked in deep cleansing breaths while Merlin waited patiently. After a few moments, Merlin laced his fingers into Gwaine’s and then tugged as he started to run. The men ran together, Gwaine catching Merlin’s rhythm easily. Gwaine had just started to lose himself in the motion and freedom of the movement when Merlin started to roar.

A whoosh of wind and they spotted Kilgharrah in the sky, coming toward them at great speed. Shortly they met up on a great field. “Ah, young master. I see you are restless tonight and hankering for a ride.”

Merlin looked down at his toes momentarily before looking up, little sheepish and said, “Kilgharrah, if you would indulge me, I’d like to take Gwaine for a ride tonight.”

“As you wish, young dragonlord. Climb up.”

Merlin put his hand on the warrior’s back, guiding him to the dragon’s scaly flank. Gwaine climbed and seated himself at the base of Kilgharrah’s neck, in between his wings. Merlin snugged up right behind him and yelled out, “Ready!”

With a few jogging steps and flaps of large leathery wings, they were airbound. Their stomachs dropped and Merlin whooped. The rushing air dried the tear tracks and soothed Gwaine’s hair from his face. Gwaine relaxed back into Merlin, feeling the other man’s chin on his shoulder. He closed his eyes and let Merlin and Kilgharrah help him empty his sorrows and allow love back in.


End file.
